


Body

by kittybenzedrine



Category: Punch-Out!! (Video Games)
Genre: Aran not being as much of a dick as he could have been, Gender Dysphoria, Other, Trans Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:02:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittybenzedrine/pseuds/kittybenzedrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aran is a sore loser and plans to jump Mac in the shower.</p><p>Things don't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body

Aran Ryan was a sore loser. A very sore loser. He was a very _very_ sore loser, and some little shit that weighed less than Glass Joe had absolutely beaten the snot out of him earlier. And if there was one thing Aran Ryan loved, it was some good, old-fashioned, blunt object induced revenge.

Just his luck, too; everyone was stupid enough to leave, which meant he was alone with the kid in a secluded locker room. 

The kid was good at dodging punches, but could he dodge the baseball bat Aran kept in his locker? Only time would tell. Hehe.

He ambled through the locker room barefoot, making the least amount of noise possible. The bat bounced off of his leg with every few slow steps, drowned out by the ever-growing drone of water on tiled floor. Kid was in the showers? Even better. Even more secluded, and it made cleaning up evidence just that much easier. Oh joy, he was even in the back corner!

Mac was singing something Aran didn't recognize, probably some hipster-y bullshit. His singing voice was high and feminine compared to his low, somewhat deeper speaking voice. Not unpleasant, just a stark contrast to what he was used to. Oh well. Kid wasn't going to be doing much of either once Aran broke his little jaw.

Ooooh... Maybe he could beat the shit out of the kid, get his shower out of the way, and go back for seconds...

Abruptly, Mac turned his shower off and pulled the curtain open, bare feet wetly smacking against the floor. Aran stood a few stalls back, where the bench with Mac's towels was.

"So, boy-o, ya ready for round t-"

He cut himself off, shit-eating grin slipping from his mouth the moment Mac exited the stall, the boys' eyes going almost comically wide with horror.

Mac had also had the shit beaten out of him. Aran had gotten quite a few punches in himself, obviously. Naturally, his torso was bruised from the sheer amount of times Aran had hit him. Unnaturally, there were a myriad of bruises and reddened, rashy skin under and around breasts that Aran hadn't known existed. A quick glance down provided him with a flash of dark hair and absolutely no sign of a dick.

Well. 

_Well._

"Well," Aran drew out, pressing his baseball bat to the floor and leaning some of his weight against it. Mac's face shifted between horror and panic the longer they stood there. "Wouldja lookit that?"

Already, the anger had left the Irishman. Mac looked between him and the bench, still frozen mutely in place. He knew exactly what Mac was feeling. The sheer, unholy terror that _someone knows_. Aran examined the bruised and rashed area on the younger man's chest, an unpleasant ripple running through his own.

Unconsciously, he reached up with his free hand and rubbed his chest, a phantom ache gripping his ribs as he mentally shook away unnecessary and unreasonable fear.

"Don't bind when ya fight, boy. Focks up yer ribs. Won't be able to get yer man-tits chopped off. Use a minimizer bra."

The Ace bandages had hurt. The binder had hurt far less, but they hurt just as bad as the bandages during a match. Doctor had told him to stop binding so long and during exercise or he'd never get his chest looking normal. He took a good, solid look at Mac's chest, making a few mental notes.

"Yer like I was, small enough for keyhole."

Mac seemed startled, even more-so when Aran let out a quiet sigh and tossed him his towels. 

"I'll kick yer arse some other time," Aran told him, turning on his heel and stalking away, dragging his trusty bat along. "And, ah. Let me know if ya need a good doctor. I'll give ya a reference."

Who'd have ever guessed? Kid was perfect stealth. The tank top and changing in a stall was all easily chalked up to being a self-conscious teenager, as could the refusal to shower with everyone else. Goddamn.

He was nearly out of the locker rooms, bat snugly back in the locker, when he heard a faint call of his name. Upon turning, his eyes locked onto a towel clad Mac.

"... Can, uh. Can you also give me a reference for, for uh, for bottom surgery, if I needed?"

"Never had it, but I could probably help, Cheeseburger. Let me know."

"Oh!" Aran called over his shoulder into the locker room, listening to Mac's feet wetly smack on the tile. "I was serious when I said I'm gonna kick yer arse later!"

**Author's Note:**

> Aran totally calls him Cheeseburger. There's no doubt in my mind.
> 
> Also I wrote all of this super late so it's really sucky. Sorry
> 
> Another note, "keyhole" is a type of surgery where they make an incision under the nipples and suck the boob fat out like that, just in case you didn't know.


End file.
